Life's Curse
by UsagiMoon2627
Summary: A story of my life... from being born to the love of my life and to the curse that controls my destiny.
1. Prologue

I don't look that old, not in real life anyways.

However, if you were to count how many lives I have had in the past, then you would say I'm about 400 years old. That is, if you were to count. But I no longer do, and so…we shall say I'm going to be turning 27 soon.

My soul, on the other hand, shall be turning 400 or somewhere around that.

It truly does suck when you have a gift such as mine, truly it does. Being able to see into the past isn't so much as a gift as it is a curse. But it is one I have lived with for the better part of my life, this life; as in the here and now life.

I have gotten use to it, this curse of mine. Learned from it, kept it to myself, for now at least, and known when to use it. Of course, I have had flashes of the future, but that is something no one should ever know, so I don't think too much about the future.

However…

My past is something that is always in front of me. Always hanging around as if it were coming back to haunt me, which it is doing… I'm rather sick of it, to you the truth.

I bet you're wondering what in the living hell am I talking about, aren't you? I assure you, I'm not crazy nor do I try to be. I am a normal girl, well as normal as one can get with what I know, and I live a peaceful life… sometimes…

I have lived through four centuries, living each and every one in a different place. I have lived in Europe, Asia, South America, and so on. I have been called different names, from Sara to Elizabeth to Hikara. And I have died every single time, before my twenty-sixth year was to pass.

Death is something, that after three centuries, you began to look forward, hoping that this time when you die, you shall stay dead, and your soul shall move on to the heavens above you. But it never does, and so thus my curse continues.

My curse…

This is the story of my life, from the beginning to the end… or as much as one can have an end seeing how I'm not yet dead… not yet… I shall start at the beginning, explaining how I came to be in this world, and the one man who cursed me with what I have now.


	2. Chapter One

I was born in a small town, in the year 1981. Born to parents who had forgotten to love one another, and as such I was born to save the marriage. But I failed to do so, and so four years later, they divorced.

But my life doesn't start there, not by a long shot.

In truth, my life starts 400 years ago, in a small town outside of Paris, France. I was born to parents who loved one another so much that you could see it in their eyes. My mother was beautiful, for a woman of the times. She had long brown hair, dark deep blue eyes. I do not remember my father's face so much... not as much as I would like, anyways.

The year was 1608, or as close to it as I can remember.

Most of you have heard of what happened in the 17th century of France, so I will not go into detail of that time or place. In truth, I do not remember much of that time. It seems my curse only lets me see what it wants. But I do know of my birth, of my mother's blue eyes and my father's laughter. There are just some things never to be forgotten.

My first true memory is of when I was 17, and my name was Joan. I know that it sounds perhaps too old to start recovering memories, and you may be asking yourself what happened to the first 17 years of her life? This, however, I do not know and maybe one day I shall find the answer. Until then, life for me starts at 17.

I was young, beautiful (more so then than I am now), and happy. I was to be married, happily I hoped, to one of my father's businessmen by the name of Le'Ves. I do not remember his first name, but I can still remember his face as if he were staring at me now. Light green eyes, dark brown hair that curled at the tips, strong chin and gentle hands. He smiled a lot, which in turn made me smile; and I did not mind being married to him, even through he was 20 years my senior.

Our wedding was held the following spring, the day clear and bright. People from all over attended to our wedding, wishing us good will and luck. I do not remember exactly of what happened afterwards, but I do remember our marriage to be a good one. I had 3 children, ages 10, 8, and 2. All girls. Now thinking about them, I realize how much I miss them… their laughter, their smiles… but they are dead and as such the dead shall not be spoken upon sadly.

Le'Ves was a traveling businessman. He would be gone for days at end, perhaps even weeks. I was happy, content while he was away, missing him. I wanted for nothing, having all I could. We lived in what would be considered in these times a mansion, however it was just a big house.

But most of that is just minor details, not truly dealing with the main concern of ours. I lived a happy, peaceful life until my death in 1695, having outlived my children and my husband. My children all died of smallpoxs, having contracted the disease from a close family friend. I remember clearly my distress as they lay dying, and I feeling as if I could do naught. My husband lived until he was 81, and I 63. He died of old age, his heart not being what it once was. I stayed be his side the entire time, holding his hand and softly saying his name.

As you can see, my curse had yet to find me…that wouldn't happen for another hundred years.

I just realized that I have yet to introduce myself.

I am called Usagi, or Usa for short, in this time and place. I am presently 26, and in just under three days I shall be turning 27. I so would love to see 27, but that has yet to be determined.

But until then, I shall continue on with my story.


	3. Chapter Two

My next memory is of England, 1755. I do not know where, but I know it was England, perhaps towards London. I was a maid, living inside her lord's castle, serving him night and day. I had long blond hair that reached just beyond my knees, bright green eyes that when the sun hit them just right they would shine, and was consider at the time to be a beauty. I cannot say I was happy… I don't truly remember. But I do remember the man that invaded my dreams.

He had dark hair, long and lean. His eyes were as blue as the oceans, and when he would look at me, I felt as if my whole soul were being stared upon. He was tall, about 5'9" or perhaps 6', I'm not too sure. What I do know, is that he was there every night in my head, in my dreams, dancing with me, laughing with me, loving me. When it came time to wake, I truly felt sad.

That was until he appeared before me, one night at a ball.

I was serving plates of food, trying not to get bumped by any guests and trying my hardest to stay out of the way. I was the quite one, always staying out of the way and trying my hardest not to be noticed. It wasn't as if I didn't mind people talking to me, it was just I'd rather be left alone in my little life, not wanting to draw attention to myself.

However, let me continue on with my story…

I had bumped into him, causing the food and drink upon the serving platter to fall to the ground, glass breaking into a million pieces upon the marble. I hurried to retrieve the pieces and be on my way, but in my haste I cut my hand upon the sharp glass and blood pooled down to the ground. The wound was deep, angry and bleeding something terrible.

It was he, who bent down among all the guests, and cleaned the mess up for me. I could do naught, but to sit there, holding my injured hand and watch as he picked up the pieces for me. I was terrified, knowing that if my lord had found out, I'd be punished. However, none of this must have been on his mind as he looked at me, a smile gently playing at his lips.

"I'm sorry, miss. I did not see you," he had said to me, putting the glass back onto the platter. It was then that he noticed my hand. "Can you show me your wound? Perhaps, I can take care of it for you."

I froze, unable to move at the sound of his voice. It was deep, yet gentle. He had the affect of making me think of long, lazy summer days. However, it was his eyes that held me captive. Those eyes of blue, so deep and dark that I felt as if my soul were being eaten alive. I couldn't bear to look away, afraid to wake and find all this was a dream.

He held out his hand towards me once more, asking for mine. "Miss?" his gentle voice said.

I shook my head, as I gathered my skirts around me and prepared to stand. "I am sorry, my lord. I should have been paying attention to where I was going, please forgive me," I said as one was suppose to say to higher class than mine.

"Give me your hand," he demanded, this time with more order than before. I gave him my hand, and watched as he leaned down towards it, as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

Then to my utmost horror, he licked the blood coming from my palm and smiled.

I pulled it back, almost as if he had burned me, a look of horror and surprise on my face. Gathering the platter and my skirts once more, I left the room, never looking back.

It would be days before I'd see him again, and this time… this time I would learn the truth to his madness.

_

* * *

_

Author Notes

_I do no know if I mention this in other chapters, but this story is based on true events and lives. Names have been changed to protect the living and the dead. At some points, it shall seem as if I'm making no sense… these are my memories, my lives… and at points in my life, they make no sense. _


	4. Chapter Three

I was only allowed to see him one last time before I died.

And it was he, who killed me.

Had I known he was going to do so, I would never had agreed to the walk. I would have stayed home, cleaning and answering to my lord's calls. But I had agreed, and three hours later found me dead.

I don't remember much of my death, except for the hungry red eyes of his, for the sharp piecing teeth that broke open my skin, and for the hum of life being drained from me. I knew then what he was, knew then that my life was over, and I had only yet to begun to live. I was 24, the youngest of my deaths.

I did learn one important thing that day, however, before he killed me. A name, one that I have hated for all of 400 years.

Christophe.


	5. Chapter Four

Christophe.

How even now that name brings feelings of hated up inside me. Someone who has hunted my dreams for nearly 300 years. And the sad thing, dear readers, is that he was someone who I would see for the rest of my life. He would find me, seek me out.

After being killed in 1755, my soul traveled onwards, and the next thing I knew I was living in a small village outside of Rome, Italy. It was 1796, no more than 41 years later, and I was no more than 18 at the time.

Now, you're probably thinking, how can it only 1796 and she be 18 years old? That would mean that I was born in 1778, twenty-three years after I died. This is correct, and while it might seem a little rushed, souls don't stay long in the afterlife. At least, not mine. Anyways, I'm getting off the subject, aren't I?

Back to our story…

As I said before, it was 1796 and I was living in Rome. Beautiful country, to say the least. If you ever get the chance, you should go one day. I lived in a gorgeous villa, along with my father, mother, 4 sisters, and 3 brothers. I was happy. My name was Artemia.

I died a few years later, done in again by him… How could I have been so stupid? I invited him into my house, into my family, and how does he repay me? By killing off my entire family, even the dogs.

And still I could not stop my heart…

The next time I woke it was to find myself in Tokyo, Japan. I don't remember my life, nor any other things except for my wedding night. I know I was a Japanese princess, about to be married off to a lord of high praises, and I was not happy. If memory serves me correct, the year was between 1815-1820. My name this time was Hikara, the closest meaning coming out to be 'to shine'. (Which might explain why I like shiny things, lol…).

I remember the wedding, the layers upon layers of clothing that I had to wear, and how hot it was out. The make-up, the wig.. Gods… I wanted nothing more than for the wedding to be over with. But it droned on for hours, each guest giving their thanks or well wishes, as I sat there dying in over lineament of clothing.

However, I'm not going to bore you with all these damn details. Lets just say, that when all was said and done, I was happy to be out of those clothing; and onward to my wedding night.

But I never got that far.

The next thing I know, is someone is plunging a knife into my back, over and over again. I am stabbed to death over 20 times, blood soaking my kimono and pooling around my feet, my knees, and finally my head as I lay there in my own blood. As I look upwards, I see my husband, the man I had just married no more than a few hours ago, staring down at me; hated in his black eyes.

It seems he had fallen in love with another, and since our marriage was already arranged, it could not be broken. So, they, he and his lover, had come up with a plan; kill me the night of our wedding, before running off together. I was only 25.

After that, I drifted in and out of lives, never living long enough to really make any impact upon the world. Not until 1852, and this time I was living in America.


	6. Chapter Five

1852, the year it all began. All because of him, of Christophe. Oh he was going by a different name this time, but I still knew.. I could sense him somewhere inside me.

I was living in the south, a daughter of a plantation lord in New Orleans. My father, hoping to marry me off soon, seeing how I was almost 20 and still single, held balls almost every night. It seemed he was anxious of being rid of me.

Summer came and went, fall following soon after, and yet every night there was someone new to dance with. It was at one of these autumn balls that I met him, for the third time. (Although I did not know this at the time). He still looked the same, long dark hair, and his eyes… those same eyes that seemed to capture my soul.

It had happened the same way all those years ago. I bumped into him, causing the drink I held in my wine glass to fall to the marble floor, breaking. We bent down at the same time, bumping our heads together, before looking up. It was at that moment that I fell in love with him. I laughed softly, covering my mouth up with a gloved hand before blushing.

"I'm sorry, my lord," I told him. But he wasn't paying attention to me, rather his eyes were focused on my gloved hand, the very same one that I held up to my mouth.

When I lowered my hand to see what it was that he was staring at, I was shocked to see blood sweeping through my glove. I pulled my glove off as fast as I could, all the while pulling a tissue from my dress pocket, trying to stop the bleeding. But it wasn't me who did that, it was him. He had leaned over, taking my hand into his, and kissing the underside oh so softy, he then proceed to lick the blood from my hand.

I was more aroused than frighten, just by watching his soft lips touch my palm before his tongue licked it clean. He finished, his head coming up and I stared into those very same eyes my soul knew so well. He asked for a dance, his way of saying sorry I suppose, but nevertheless, I agreed and we danced the night away.

Shortly after, I saw him again. He came by the house to ask if I wanted to accompany him on a short walk. And this time, instead of saying yes, I said no. I had things to see to, chores that were required of me, and as such I couldn't just leave. However, he never gave up, and finally after a month of receiving no for an answer, I said yes.

We walked, talking about things of different natures. It was a pleasant evening, and one in which I made it home, safe and sound.

Now, looking back, I feel almost as if he had fallen in love with me sometime while he was killing me. Isn't that funny… falling in love with your victim. However, it is true. He had fallen in love with me, and was waiting for me to be reborn.

We were married not too long after that first walk. A cold, winter wedding. Our wedding isn't important, nor is our marriage or anything else. What is, is how it all happened, how he was taken from me, how I gained my curse, and the trail that came with it.

I didn't know what he was. I never had any thoughts of how dangerous he could have been to me, my heart so full of him. But it was seeing him one night, sucking the blood from her form, eyes red as blood, fangs shape as knives, that I understood.

I understood, and loved him even more for it.

Christophe was a Immortal.

Not vampire, for Immortals only drink blood when they need it, unlike vampires who drink it to just drink it. He confessed to me, told me of my past lives and how he had been searching for me since 1755, how he had fallen in love with me since that time, and I listened to his every word. I took everything in, hearing him, seeing him as he truly was, and yet my heart still called out for him.

"None of that matters to me," I told him, giving him a small, sad smile. I touched his face, the skin smooth yet rough at the same time. "I love you, Cain."

He smiled back at me, knowing I understood and I wouldn't leave. "I love you too…Elizabeth."

* * *

1856 and war found us, found our home and destroyed it. We went north, finding work and living a peaceful life, until the night he needed to feed.

It was a clear summer night, birds singing in the air, the ocean shining from the full moon that hang in the night sky. It was my fault, really. I should never have agreed to help him, help him to find someone and kill them. But I did, and when he was finished, on the way home, I was taken from him.

I was brought before a council of sorts, people wearing robes, standing before me in a circle. My love was no where in sight, and I was alone. Scared.

I should have known then that something was wrong.

"Elizabeth Pertical, you have been found of high treason against the humans," one such robed figure said to me. "What say you to this charge?"

I blinked, not knowing where I was or when I would be leaving. But none of that mattered, because I wouldn't be leaving… not as I once was anyways. "I'm sorry… I don't understand…" was all I could say.

The robed figures just looked at one another, each nodding their heads at the one who had spoken to me. "We find you guilty, and as such the punishment is that of death."

"NO!!" a voice called out.

I turned around to see my beloved, standing in chains. He was that of an Immortal, eyes red, fangs showing. However, I could see the tears that fell down his face.

"Please.. Spare her…"

"Why, Christophe? You have broken vows, ones which were taken when you were made. We cannot kill you, for you do not die; however, your wife can. She has helped you kill humans, the very creatures in which we live to protect and to feed off of. If this was in her era, she would be found guilty of murder and hanged, for sure."

"I love her… have for nearly three hundred years," he said.

"You love her…" the robed figure said. He turned to the others, all whispering their outrage. When finally, the robed figure turned back towards me, I was beyond frighten, for surely they were going to kill me.

"We have come to a decision," the robed figure replied. "In the matter of Christophe Turner; you are to be in exile from the council for exactly one hundred years. In such time, you are to live as a human would, although never aging and since you are a Immortal, your abilities cannot be taken from you."

"Oh, thank you…"

"I am not finished." They turned to me, giving me my punishment and bestowing my curse upon me. "Elizabeth, what you have done is a crime against the gods and mankind alike. You shall not die, but live until your 27th year. You are to die before that date comes upon you, and your soul moves onwards. In each and every life, you are to be reminded of what you have done, what lives you have lead, and the curse which is placed upon you now-

"_In life, In death_

_Shall you live_

_Flashes of Past, Present, Future, _

_Come to your minds eye_

_We, the council of ancients, bestow upon you _

_This curse of ever lasting_

_You will never see your true love, not in this life, nor the next_

_For two hundred years, Love shall pass you by."_

Christophe was taken from me that very night, leaving me alone.


	7. Chapter Six

I don't blame him, not entirely anyways. I, too, was at fault. However, it was already too late. The council had already determined our fates, and I was to live with the knowledge of what I'd done.

I hadn't quite understood what the curse would mean, not then anyways. It would be a whole another year before I fully understood what was going to happen to me. And by then, the dreams would've already been coming along, one after another… more and more each night, of death and destruction…of knowledge of a times past.

I told people that Cain aka Christophe was dead, that he had died of whatever disease was present at the time. Before too long, though people began to stop speaking to me about him, seeing the hurt and pain in my eyes whenever his name was brought up. However, I didn't have to worry about having that kind of pain inside me much longer.

My time was almost up.

At first, I didn't believe them. That they could take my life away like that, that I was destined to live for only 27 years. I mean, how could they? _It was my life! _I had control over it… or so I thought.

But it was the little things that began to happen that made me think that perhaps something was going on. Headaches, little ones at first, then as time we on, they grew in size…almost to the point where I couldn't stand to be in the light anymore. Then my hunger for food began to leave, as if I couldn't stand to be around it or see it…nothing concerning myself with food or drink. I began to sleep for hours on end, 10-12 a day… And that was just the beginning…

In the spring of 1858, I began to cough up blood. A little at first, not enough to really worry me. I was living with my family once more, having to sell our house and processions in order to pay for certain things, and my father was kind enough to let me stay with them. I suppose they felt sorry for me, being married only four years before becoming a widow.

However, by mid summer, it had become my norm to cough up blood, large amounts, in the mornings. The doctors had no idea what was wrong with me, saying that I had the signs of pneumonia, but as time went by and my cough only got worse, they changed their stories and said I had the beginning stages of tuberculosis. In the end, I have neither.

I was dead before the year wore on.

I died on November 17, 1858 at the age of 26.

I remember my death, as if it were yesterday. My pale, sickly form laying on my bed, my family surrounding me, as I lay there, trying my hardest to breath. I remember telling my father that I loved him, forgave him for this curse he bestowed upon me by marrying Cain, and kissed his cheek one last time. I told my mother that she was my hero, my love… and I loved her beyond anything. The doctors were standing there, in my large room, watching me, waiting for the moment when I would take my last breath and they could began to exam me to see the cause.

My last words…those of my lover, my prince… my life… "Christophe."

They buried me in a small church yard, this I do know. Anything after I don't. My soul moved on, onwards to another life; one where I was certain I would find him.

But I didn't. And continued to live alone, always looking.

I made friends along the way, not because of chance, like you do in normal lives, but by my dreams. It was then that I understood what they were telling me. And in 1893, I would met someone who would change my life, in a matter of speaking.


	8. Chapter Seven

When you have died as many times as I, you start to look forward to death. Hoping that somewhere along the way, it'll truly be the end and you can finally see Kami. And how disappointed you are when you wake to find yourself once again living. Each and every life I've ever lived has started out like that. And so by 1893, I was becoming a rather depressing person.

I didn't bother to make many friends, not unless they held some value in my lives to come; meaning I would see them again. I never got married, nor had any children. I was alone, and without him, that was how I wanted it to be. However, my life wouldn't stay that way.

It was in the summer of 1893 that I met Lea. I was just turning 24, and she was a few years older than me, with long blond hair and great big blue eyes. She'd been married for almost ten years when her husband had died, leaving her alone with two children. However, that didn't mean she let life bring her down.

I honestly couldn't tell you how we met, perhaps that part was kept from me for a reason, as well as everything else in my life :waves hand as if to dismiss the idea: but that is neither here nor there, now is it? Anyways, as I was saying…

By this time, I already knew about my past lives, what was going to happen to me, and so forth; so I was ready… well, as ready as one can be to greet death, but anyhow... We met, spoke briefly, and met more times afterwards. I learned a great deal from Lea, and as time went by, we became great friends. I only had two years left, three at the most, before my fate would catch up with me. I tried to stay away from her, not wanting to tell her what would happen to me when my 27th birthday approached; but she wouldn't give up. She was relentless to be my friend, and so I became her friend and so much more…

As I said before, I learned a great deal from her. She taught me about the earth, about the choices we make in life and how they can affect us later. And she taught me to love again.

In the time I had with Lea, I never told her about my gift (rather my curse) or of Christophe. I knew he was alive, somewhere; but I didn't have the heart to go and find him, afraid that I would be put to death or worse. And so, I kept quite about him and bout other things. However, she learned the truth and confronted me about it.

I was shocked, to say the least. I denied it all, saying she was losing her mind or something rather, but she wouldn't give up.

"Christen," My name at the time. "...you must confess… are the rumors I hear from your staff, true?" she said to me one clear morning in the summer of that year. I just continued to stare at her, not wanting to move less I confess unbeknownst to her.

"I do believe you have lost your mind, Lea. What nonsense are you speaking of?" I said, getting up from the small couch we sat upon.

"I speak of no nonsense, Christen. They say you are cursed, doomed to live until your twenty-seventh year, that you are in love with a non-human."

I stopped at the large window that lined the front of my parent's house, stood staring at the green grass and the way the roses bloomed, blood red. It reminded me of a time when my life was so simple. "I have begun to think that perhaps I am cursed, cursed with having someone asking questions all the time for a friend," I said turning to look at her. "I am fine, Lea, honest."

"I did not ask if you were alright, my dear friend, I asked if what your staff has been whispering about you true or not. And I will not leave until you answer me," Lea said as she, too, stood and approached me. I saw the fear in her ocean colored eyes, but also something else. Love. And I knew then that what she said was true, she wouldn't leave, not until I gave her the answer she already knew.

I never really tried to hid anything from her. I guess this here was my mistake. We told each other everything, but could I honestly tell her this one thing, this one thing that meant the death of me? "You always were stubborn," I whispered as I turned from her gaze. She didn't say anything, and I could feel her eyes staring at the back of my long gown. So, I started at the beginning, one you, dear readers, already know.

"I was born, long before this time, I was born and I died. I was born again and again, over and over until this time found me. I shall die soon, Lea," I finished, my gaze once more going to the red blooming roses in the front yard. How their petals moved about in the gentle breeze, knowing that their life too, was as short as mine.

"And the one you are in love with?" the question was quite, almost as if she hadn't spoken at all. But I heard her, and sighed.

"Christophe."

"This non-human, Christophe… what is he? Where is he, Christen?" Such a simple question, one that should have a simple answer.

"He is called an Immotal, a being unlike anything you have ever seen before. As to his whereabouts...I do not know. The last time I saw him was in 1856," I said, not realizing then that tears of silver ran down my cheeks. Just bringing up his name, brought back all the memories, all the happiness, and all the pain. "I am nearly three hundred years old, and as each day passes my spirit grows older. However, my body is that of what you see before you now, Lea." I turned around, watched as she continued to stare at me. "I shall never see him again, for we have angered the gods alike and my curse shall finish me off."

"Christen… Where did you live before this Christophe was taken from you?" I could tell she had something working in her head, something I wasn't going to like.

"Before or after the war?"

"Before."

"New Orleans."

* * *

She believe me.

Every single word that left my mouth thereafter, she took into her heart and believed.

And it was her idea to board the train and head south. To find the house I spoke of in my dreams. To find him…

She kept saying he would want to see me, kept saying I was destined to find him and end this curse of mine. And somewhere inside my heart, I knew she believed every word she was saying.

But she was wrong.

* * *

We arrived just outside of New Orleans, the city busy with life and laughter as we stepped off the train and onto the platform. Lea had left her children in the care of her mother, knowing they would be safe. It had been a long train ride, but I knew it would have been longer had we taken passage aboard a ship.

No one asked any questions, afraid I assume of finding out the answer as to why two young women were traveling alone. We rented a carriage, and rode out towards the plantation. I sat next to her, my hands worrying in my lap as the carriage jostled us around and about. She took hold of my hands, calming me. I looked up at her, and it was her smile that calmed my nerves.

"_He's there, Christen… He's at your old house in New Orleans," Lea said, trying to convince me of her words. "I just know it. We should go, find him, bring him back here." She had said so easily. _

"_How, Lea? How do you know, for I, myself, do not know," I replied back._

"_You shall never find the answer if you are too afraid to ask the question," was all she said to me. _

"Christen, we are here."

As I came out of my thoughts of the night before, I looked out the carriage window, and upon the house that had been mine, once upon a time. It's windows were only half there, whilst where glass should have been, now only boards stood. It had lost some of its white color, now looking dirty and gray upon the bright backdrop of blue water. Grass grew in size, hiding the wrap-a-round porch from view. I felt my heart break at seeing it in such dismay, however no one had lived there for nearly forty years. Rumors spread that it was haunted, and so no one dared go inside.

But still the same, there is stood.

In my minds eye, I could see how it once looked, how the lights brighten the white that covered the house in every corner, the people standing around, laughter filling the air as music played throughout the night. I could see all this… and yet, my heart cried.

We stepped inside, walking down the long narrow path that lead to the porch. And still my heart continued to beat wildly inside me. There was no door, nothing blocking our path, and as I stepped inside, I was taken back to a time when I felt love overflowing in every direction.

Candles hung on every surface, shadows dancing upon the walls as I walked along the hallway that lead to the den. Opening the door, I saw the way the room had been and still was.

I saw him.

He looked the same as he had back in 1856. His back to me, I could see how long his hair had gotten and how he kept it back by way of leather string. He wore only pants and a white shirt. He stood by the fireplace, a low fire playing in the hearth. I stepped inside, my hands folded in front of me.

He hadn't heard me approach, and so when the floor creaked from under my weight, he turned around sharply, and it was then that I saw his face. The bags and dark rings that circled his eyes, those eyes that I had dreamed of every since the day he had been taken away from me. He face was harden, as if the years had not been kind to him nor his emotions.

He stared at me, unable to look away. It was as if he were looking at a ghost. Stepping forward, he didn't speak. It was Lea, who brought him out of his trance, when she stepped up beside me, cupping my elbow for comfort.

"Is that him?" she whispered into my ear, but I knew he had heard her. His eyes shown that much emotion.

I could do naught but nod my head, my bonnet falling down behind me to rest on my back as my long brown hair fell forward. I left Lea's side, stepping towards him, a small smile upon my lips. Reaching out a hand, my heart squeezed tight and I had to hold back the tears that threaten to spill over.

"Christophe…"

His name…

…..words spoken from my lips.

It was enough.

He rushed forward, embracing me tightly while stroking my hair. Kissing my lips, I felt the fire from so long ago began to warm itself inside me. And just as fast as it had begun, it was over and he was pushing me back, away from him.

"You must go… Now… Leave, Elizabeth… Leave and never return…" he said as he released me and began to push me towards the door.

I tried my hardest to stay, to keep him within sight, but he would have none of it. "Christophe… stop… please…"

"Leave… NOW! Before they find you here… Leave… please…" he begged of us.

I looked into his eyes, into those blue orbs that knew me so well, and knew that it was time; if were to stay any longer the council would find out and I did not want to know what they would do. So, I nodded my head, and pulling Lea with me, left my beloved for the second time in nearly forty years.


	9. Chapter Eight

You have no idea how much pain, hurt or any other emotion it takes to walk away from the one you love. Absolutely no idea.

To walk away from the one you have been searching for. Kami only knows how many more years is shall take until you can be together again.

But I do.

I know the pain that comes with his pleading eyes, asking me to understand as I push my best friend out the door, hurt that he wouldn't fight this, sadness in seeing him, standing there as if nothing had changed. But I know that if I stayed another minute, then I wouldn't have left. I would have stayed there until the council came and killed us both, Lea and I. And I couldn't do that to Lea.

So, I pushed her out the door, looked one last time at Christophe and I, too, stepped out the door. I remained strong, not crying or letting the tears come to my eyes as we went to our hotel room, boarded the train the next day for home. Lea had to see to everything, through. This I do remember, for I was a zombie. All I could see before me was him, his smiling eyes, his long dark hair, his strong face.

Him.

* * *

Perhaps all the years alive, I've finally gone crazy. For even now, I'm sitting here, writing this out, and I can see that time, that scene in my head as if it were before me.

* * *

Lea never spoke of him again, not after seeing him and finally understanding what I had gone through. She kept to herself of our trip to the south, and never spoke of that time. Life went back as it normally does, days going by, lives passing through. And as time went on, happiness found me once more.

It was 1895, one year left and it was then that love found me.

Lea held a tea party, inviting everyone of social climbing within our city. You would have thought she'd thrown a large ball, but it was in fact a small tea party of about 30 people. It was while helping to pour tea to the Mayor's wife, that I met him.

Daniel Whinster.

He was handsome, with short brown hair and dark brown eyes. His face was strong, his cheekbones defining it. He was the son of a great figurehead in New York, something to do with politics… I'm not quite certain. We spoke briefly that first day, laughing about something or another.

He came the next day, and the day after; always asking for my company and the two of us would go walking through the city. By then my curse was already beginning to show itself, the headaches approaching with speed while my need for food began to waver.

I told no one.

I met Daniel in the spring of 1895, and by fall he was hinting at marriage. But I couldn't bare to explain to him what was happening, and that if I married him I would not be here for very long. And I couldn't do that to him. So, I called off our relationship, telling him that I no longer had feelings for him and such lies.

But he saw through every single one of them.

He begged, pleaded with me to explain to him what was wrong, why wouldn't I marry him if I loved him? But I could say naught and the night ended with me running towards my room, tears falling from my eyes.

It was Lea, who explained to him what would happened in a few months time. Explaining that when my 27th year approached, I shall no longer be of this world. He listened with an open heart and open ear, but he didn't understand. He didn't believe. However, no matter how much he didn't believe or understand, he still loved me and still called for our marriage to began.

I agreed.

I was born on June 25th, 1869, which meant I would be dead before that date arrived once more. I told Daniel this, told him our wedding date would have to be before June; but he didn't listen and announced the date of June 26th, the day after my 27th birthday.

I wouldn't even live to see the month of June.


	10. Chapter Nine

"Don't you think this is a nice color, dear?" Daniel asked me as we walked the many shops in New York. I could do nothing, but nod my head. He seemed not to notice. Picking up the light pink color fabric, he left me to go and talk to the sells lady. I jumped for joy on the inside. For nearly three hours, we'd been walking the many shops, looking for fabric and such for our wedding.

I was tired.

Things were getting like this. I would complain that I hadn't the strength to walk, that the sun hurt my eyes, but Daniel wouldn't listen and proceeded to pull me out into the open air. All I wanted was to sleep, to rest what little energy I had left. But he would haven none of it.

I could see the worry in Lea's eyes, the way she would watch me as I moved about from room to room; and I could see that she knew it was time. She made the preparations for my burial in silence, never telling Daniel.

At night, I would lay awake, coughing up blood and sweating until my clothes and the bed coverings were soaked. And she would be there, to changed me, to care for me, while Daniel was off doing only Kami knows what.

My figure was almost gone, and even now it makes me laugh remembering the comment Daniel had made one morning at breakfast, after watching me cough up more blood into my small napkin.

"Don't you think you should eat something, dear? You are beginning to look like death," he had told me, while he bite into his biscuit. I had to hold Lea back with my eyes, for my body had no strength left to do it by hand.

I wonder now if he was surprised by my death.

I am very happy to say that I hung on for a very long time. Daniel never noticed how I would sleep, hours into the day or if he did he never said anything. His comment about my eating habits was his last towards me of such nature. Even now, I don't remember his presence at my bedside as I lay there dying.

I remember Lea's, of course. I remember Mama's and Papa's. I even remember Lea's children coming to bid me farewell, but never Daniel.

But I do remember my last words, and the face that stood before me as I shut my eyes for the last time and took my last breath. I died on May 30th, 1896, with Christophe's name on my lips and his face before my eyes.

_

* * *

_

AN: I realize that last memory seems a bit confusing, but that is how it was told to me. Dreams don't often make sense, and perhaps mine never will.

* * *

My next memory is of this time, this present.

As I said before, I was born on May 4th, 1981 to parents who had forgotten to love one another, and as such, they divorced before I was five. I lived with my mother, with the man she called her boyfriend, and my older sister. My mother's boyfriend, Frank had four children of his own, and as such we were a large family.

I was one of the middle children, 4th oldest to be exact. I don't know if I was ever truly loved, for as I have told other's, my mother is a selfish person. My childhood was short, gone the year I turned ten. However, my memories, my "gift" wouldn't come to me until I was fourteen; and by then, I welcomed death.

When I was fourteen, I was a very unhappy person. Dreams of death and destruction would do that to a person, and I was having them almost every night. I was so tired, that my teachers thought something was wrong with me. And perhaps there was. I couldn't study, nothing would stay in my head, and I didn't have many friends. The friends I did have were just there to use me, and I let myself be used. I didn't care.

The year I turned fifteen, someone very close to me died. I remember the funeral, I remember the service, I remember the colors of his suit. And it was then that I understood what my dreams had been telling me. I cried for days on end.

That same year, I fell in love with a boy. Or rather two boys, to say the least. James was sweet, kind, and cute. Luke was the complete opposite. And so I dated James for almost five months. We fought, made up, had fun together. But I never told him about the dreams, I couldn't… He wouldn't have understood.

James came from a very religious family, one who believe in God and such. While I didn't. His parent's didn't look down on me for that, oh no. I figured it was because they believed that one day, I would come to see that they were right and everything. But I never did. However, my time spent with James was happy.

Before James, through, was Luke. Luke and I dated a whole two weeks, before he met and fell in love with my best friend at the time, Marie. He broke up with me, to date her. They didn't even have the guts to tell me in person, I found out from someone else and approached her in the cafeteria at school that same day. She confessed to me, saying Luke wanted to tell me himself.

And he did. When I got home that very same afternoon.

By the time James and I broke up, it was summer and my 8th grade year was ending. Luke moved that same year, and it would be many years before I would see him again. My mother felt that I was becoming a different person, and so she sent me away for the summer. I came back, and once more a new school year was upon us.

I started out my high school career with a boyfriend, but two days later found me single. By the end of the following month, I would once again have a boyfriend; however this one would be related to the one man who would hold my heart for four years.

Aaron was cousins with Gage, and it was Aaron that I had begun to date that cold October day. And it was with Aaron that I would be in the accident that would change my life forever.

Aaron and I had a happy relationship, but something was wrong with it. I noticed it right away, noticing how I didn't fully have his attention and at times, I felt as if he was lying to me. (And he was, but I wouldn't learn the truth until later, of course).

It was a cold November day, when we decided to go to the mall, my friends and I. Aaron would be driving, being sixteen and having his license already; and so we picked up Marie (who, by now was dating a totally different boy, thanks to me once more), Marie's boyfriend, Garrett, my step-brother, Ryan, and another of their class mates by the name of Lee.

Aaron had called me after I gotten home from school, asking if I wanted to go to the mall. I said yes, of course, and called my mother to ask permission. I told Aaron that I needed to take a small nap before hand, for my allergies were bothering me. He said okay, and he'd pick me up in an hour.

It was while sleeping that I saw the vision. I thought it was just a dream, it being in black and white. But it wasn't, and I should have paid more attention to it.

In my dream, I watched helplessly as a car drove off a cliff-like side of road, fall upside down into the water, and as the water began to cover the car, no one came out. I knew what kind of car it was even, a Ford Taurus; but the color was lost to me.

I was worried, that was the same car my mom drove. I called her, telling her to be careful on the way home and that I was going to the mall with Aaron. She said alright, and told me to be home before ten because it was a school night.

Aaron showed up twenty minutes later, and thus began our journey.


	11. Chapter Ten

Aaron arrived, and thus began our journey.

We left my house, drove to Marie's, then onwards towards my step-brother's house. We picked up Garrett, Ryan, and Lee before making our way towards the mall. It was a fun trip, the mall being packed full of people as Christmas was only a month away, the sounds of the season in the air, and we six, having the time of our lives. Marie and I spilt up from the guys, wanting to look around and such. We agreed to met back at the food court in an hour, which we did.

I won't go into detail of the trip to the mall, for it isn't important. But the trip home… that's important. I remember it clearly as if it happened yesterday.

We had to drop Lee off first, for he had to be home before any of us and besides Ryan and Garrett were staying the night at Ryan's house, and could go home at any time. But Marie and Lee had to be home at certain times, as did I. So, in dropping Lee off at his house, we decided to take Marie home next then onwards to my house.

Marie lived out in the country, her house being big and comfortable. She lived at the end of a long street, and there are two ways to get to her house. One being to just down the road, straight to her house; the other being to turn down East River Rd. and take that, following until it ended somewhere near her house. Normally, we would of just taken her street straight to her house, but seeing how her parents didn't like Garrett, we decided to take the other route, so she could spend more time with him.

Everything was going well at first. We were all laughing, joking as Aaron followed the road and drove. I was giving out directions, telling him which way to go and such…. And it was at one such curve that I told him the wrong way.

We came upon a curve, with a house in front of us. I told him to go left, thinking we were somewhere else; and thinking I was wrong, he went straight. Well, his headlights hit the house… kind of.

His right headlight hit the right side of the house along with the road that sat off to the right, while his left headlight hit the raging water of the river next to us.

We were suppose to go right, not left.

When he realized this, he put the car in reverse and backed up. The back left tire slid off the embankment, which in turn, caused the car to tip upside down and into the water. Now, remember its November and we've just fallen into a very deep river.

The car landed on the sandy bottom, the back windshield breaking upon impact, as did Aaron's driver side window. I tried to open my door, thinking I could get out that way, but a huge branch was blocking it, making me unable to. I remember the overhead light coming on, and just as fast as it came on it was gone, mud covering it as the water rushed in on us.

Marie screamed, "Oh my god…. We're going to die!" as she hung on to Garrett's shirt, crying.

I turned around in my seat (actually it was the roof of the car), looking at everyone in the backseat. "No we're not!" I turned to my brother, and said, "Get her out, NOW!"

Ryan nodded his head, and began to kick at his window, until finally the glass broke and shattered into the car. I heard him tell Garrett to push her under the water and guide Marie towards the broken window, which he did. When Garrett knew she was out of the car, he drove under the water and swam out the window, followed by Ryan. Now, it's just Aaron and I left in the car.

I can't get out. No matter what I do, I can't. Aaron is still stuck in his seat, upside down because he was the only one wearing a seatbelt at the time. I'm sitting on the roof of the car, listening as the water comes rushing in, and the only thing I can think of is how I don't want to die.

Water is up to my chin now, my head bobbing above it as I wait. I can't see, darkness is all around me, and for the first time since the whole thing started, I can feel the panic began to set in. I'm scared.

"Melissa, I'm out!" I hear a voice call out towards me from outside the car. It's Aaron. He's gotten out of his seatbelt and swim through the broken window that was once his. I sighed with relief, thankful that I'm not going to die. But now, a new threat has entered the game.

I can't see the window or even his seat. Water has covered my mouth and I'm now breathing through my nose. In another two minutes, the car would be completely under water, and I was going with it.


	12. Chapter Eleven

I am sorry for not having written sooner, for I have been ill. I am presently 27 years old, my birthday coming upon me once more. I shall live to see it, and any other that comes after; but my illness will never leave me. If you haven't already figured out, I have been spared; my curse leaving me, but not the symptoms. However, none of that is of any importance as of right now. I shall explain all that later.

As I was saying…

* * *

The water was rising faster and faster, and I knew that I only had a few short minutes to live before the water would overcome me. I didn't know what to do. For the first time in my life, for the first time in many years, I was scared.

But then something… or rather someone, called my name. A whisper at first, then louder as the rushing water flowed through the broken windows. I knew the voice, but at the time, couldn't place who it was. And before I even had the time to think, I felt someone push my head under the water.

I swam.

I swam as fast and hard as I could towards what I hoped was the broken window. And before I knew it, someone was pulling me up and out of the water. It was Aaron, pulling me up and helping me to stand.

I shall not go into much detail, for you already know most of what happened. We all survive, of course, for otherwise how am I writing this?

* * *

Aaron and I broke up a month later, it seems our "love" wasn't much of anything, not after I found out he had been cheating on me. And besides it was his cousin that I was in love with, not him. (Which is another story in itself, one for another time and place). Marie and Garrett's relationship continued on, but was rocky at best. They broke up before the next year finished its life. My brother, for what more could he ever be, continued to be the same as he always was. It seems, that neither time nor distance could change him.

We grew up, and grew apart; for what high school relationship ever stays as it was? I haven't heard from Aaron in… going on ten years, I'd say. Garrett is married, with three kids. Marie is married, with two kids. I do not know what become of Lee, for I never really knew him to begin with. Ryan got married, but soon divorced and is currently serving over seas. I miss him dearly.

Time went by, and before I knew it I was twenty-one; and once more I would find the man of my dreams… or perhaps nightmares.


End file.
